


Soon-to-Be

by herbailiwick



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-20
Updated: 2012-07-20
Packaged: 2017-11-10 09:00:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/464525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herbailiwick/pseuds/herbailiwick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For tumblr's cheekbonesofbenny.</p><p>For a prompt I went to a <a href="http://watchout4snakes.com/creativitytools/RandomWord/RandomWordPlus.aspx">word generator</a> and got: "coffeecake", "bombastic", "nontechnical", "forefront", and "curving"; and to <a href="http://www.adammaxwell.com/writers-tools/writing-prompts-generator/">this</a> prompt generator, which gave me: "It was as if she didn't understand the concept of 'shut up'."</p><p>Sherlock plants doubt in the mind of another one of John's girlfriends, and John wants to know why. Rated PG for language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soon-to-Be

He watched, secretly fascinated, pretending to be more interested in his tea, pretending not to be fighting the urge to chuckle. She was really laying into John. He did feel a bit bad about the fact John had left her date to help him with a case because it was Sherlock's fault, when it came down to it. Yes, he did get a bit possessive of his one friend, but he was his one friend, and when it came down to it he was just really...really...good.

Ah, but Susan was laying into him. "If you can't even commit to a date at the cinema, how do I know you can commit to anything?" she asked.

"Not a very good question," Sherlock finally spoke up.

"Sherlock," John said warningly.

"Well, come on, John. She knows you can commit to something."

"You mean you?" Susan said, rounding on Sherlock. "You mean he can commit to you."

John put his head in his hand.

She'd decided to get on John's case in front of him, so she only had herself to blame. "It's not my fault you can't keep his interest, Susan," Sherlock said coolly over the rim of his mug.

"Oh my God," John whispered, looking up through his parted fingers, eyes wide.

"A date's a rather nontechnical procedure, don't you think? One would think the two of you could handle it. Though maybe John's the problem. John, would you say you've had problems dating, what with the number of very pretty girlfriends you've had in the time since I've known you?"

"Sherlock," John growled. He turned to Susan. "They weren't pretty."

"What?!"

"No, no, I just meant." He glared at Sherlock, turning back to look at Susan pleadingly. "He used to poke fun at them, is what I meant. This isn't my problem, Sherlock, it's yours. You're clingy."

"So there it is. There it comes to the forefront. You can't take the blame for your own shortcomings, can you, John? The story just keeps curving, further away from you. It's Susan's fault. It's Sherlock's fault. Well, what about John?"

"What are you...hang on. I never said it was Susan's fault!"

"She's certainly less interesting than a crime scene, though, isn't she?" Sherlock sipped at his mug.

John stood. "And after this bombastic speech, Susan, I think we ought to go. My flatmate thinks he has me on some sort of leash. Well, he's wrong. Let me take you to lunch. And no, Sherlock, you're not coming."

"I'm not even hungry," Sherlock said.

"Good, because you're not invited."

Sherlock sat at the table alone after they left, finally yelling for Mrs. Hudson, who brought up some coffeecake and sat next to him. "You chased them out, did you?"

"Yes," he said simply. 

"I don't think I like her either," Mrs. Hudson said. "Something funny about her."

"We just wish there was," Sherlock said.

Mrs. Hudson rested a hand on his shoulder. "You should tell him how you feel."

Sherlock looked down, staring at the table. She pulled him into a bit of an embrace. 

"With any luck, she'll have dumped him soon. He's not going to build anything lasting with you in his way, and you're not going to move out of the way, so you might as well tell him how you feel." She pat him on the back. "Have some more cake, dear. And think about it."

He scowled at the cake, picking at some of it as she left. She was always telling him to think about it.

***

John got in late. Sherlock quickly pretended he'd been watching telly the whole time.

"Date go well?" he asked.

"You did it again, Sherlock. Congratulations. She's questioning the relationship between you and me. She wasn't before you started talking, you know. Not everything's about you."

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Why do you do that?" John stood between Sherlock and the telly. "Just, why? You don't need to be clingy, you know. I live here, so I'll have to come round at some point. Some of us aren't married to our work."

Sherlock looked up at john with a blank expression.

"Am I even being listened to right now? This is so...." John sighed, shaking his head. "I don't even know what _this_ is. But I don't go erasing texts from Lestrade and lying to you about your results when you call me up and make me tell you what I can observe. If you need me for a case, I never mess that up for you." He looked a bit sad for a moment. "Don't I deserve that too? I mean, sociopath, I get it. But can't you let me catch a break? I like Susan."

"Do you?"

" _Yes._ " John placed his hands on his hips. "Sherlock, I don't need to defend my feelings for Susan to you. You're the outlier here, not Susan."

Sherlock scowled. Okay, Mrs. Hudson, okay. "John, has it ever occurred to you—"

"Probably," John said snarkily. "What, are you gonna say has it ever occurred to me that you might have feelings for me? That you might make for a more fitting date? That you might be my perfect bloody match? Is that what you're going to say?"

Sherlock shrunk back a bit, expression hooded.

"You really think the world just revolves around you, that my world just revolves around you. No, what's worse, you wish it did. You're wishing I was yours. But you won't even properly ask me, you bloody annoying...." He shook his head. "You sit there and insult my dates, and stare at me, and call me  _your_ blogger, and I know you and Mrs. Hudson talk about me sometimes. But you're too scared to ask me properly. You say you trust me, but you don't trust anyone, Sherlock. And you never will.

"So just, just," John said, moving out of the way of the telly, "enjoy your telly, and ignore me. Forget I broached the subject, we'll just let it sit in the middle of the room and fester, because Sherlock's _scared_. You are such an annoying dick!"

John watched Sherlock for another moment as Sherlock started to look at the screen. He wasn't watching properly, though, just staring straight ahead. 

John groaned, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Now I've hurt you. Don't say I haven't; I can tell."

"Why are you still here?" Sherlock snapped, looking at him with heat and pain in his fascinating eyes. "Yes, I mucked it all up. Yes, I'm...demanding." He wouldn't say clingy. "But you don't need to rub it in. I've obviously got nothing to offer you."

"You have plenty to offer me!" John yelled. "You just won't do it."

Sherlock blinked, frowning in heavy confusion. "What?"

"The answer is yes, Sherlock. I'd say yes. But it doesn't matter, because you're never gonna ask me. Not sure what you're afraid of; you're not afraid of anything."

Sherlock swallowed. He was afraid of one thing: losing John.

"Sod all of this. I really don't want to see you til tomorrow if you're just gonna keep stringing me along. I'm better than that, Sherlock. You're better than that." John's footsteps on the stairs made Sherlock's fingers twitch a bit.

Sherlock weighed his options. He could let things lie, and John would explode again sometime in the future, perhaps even moving out, which Sherlock didn't want to happen. He could go talk to John, if he wasn't scared. He was definitely scared. The words weren't going to come out right, and he was going to make things worse. It was almost inevitable.

Maybe he could text? Oh, it was a juvenile solution, but John should half expect juvenile. 

_John, I would like to ask you out, but seeing as it's a new and daunting experience, I'd like to approach it in my own time. - SH_

John's bedroom door opened, and he came down the steps. Sherlock's hand tightened on his mobile and he couldn't bring himself to look up.

"There. Was that so hard?" 

Sherlock carefully loosened his grip, setting his mobile down. 

"Sherlock?" 

He looked up. "No more girlfriends?"

John crossed his arms. "I'll split with Susan. But I'm trusting you to be ready, someday. Someday before I'm too old to even care, or else dead from one of your insane cases." He quirked his lip a bit.

Sherlock sighed in relief. "I don't...I don't know how to...accomplish it," he said vaguely, licking his lips in nervousness.

John rolled his eyes. "Alright. Alright, I'll walk you through it. Okay. Repeat after me. John?"

Sherlock's throat was dry. He swallowed. "John?"

"Would you."

"Would you."

"Like to go."

"Like to go," Sherlock said, hiding his face behind his hair a bit.

"For a coffee?"

"For a coffee?"

"Yes."

"Yes." Sherlock paused. "Wait, I mean, not 'yes'."

"Not 'yes'?" John teased. "As in, no, no coffee?"

"Yes! No, I mean, yes. I mean, coffee."

"Or anywhere," John said with a shrug. "But, yeah, coffee's good. It's even a date if we watch telly, did you know?" Sherlock seemed slightly surprised. "If we call it one, I mean." He gently reached out, placing his hand on Sherlock's arm for a moment. "I kind of like it when you're spectacularly ignorant," he teased.

"Oh, shut up!" Sherlock said, crossing his arms.

"We'll go out tomorrow, since you asked so nicely."

Sherlock looked embarrassed. "I didn't. I just repeated after you."

"Still counts, to me. And are you gonna argue with your soon-to-be boyfriend about this?"

Sherlock rose to his feet. "No," he said, smirking. "I'm not gonna argue about it. You're the expert."

They stared at each other hotly, intensely.

"Ah ah ah, no kiss til after our date," John said. "I'm gonna go on up to bed now, I think, if we're done here?"

Sherlock turned, watching John head up the stairs.

Mrs. Hudson was going to be so proud of him. 


End file.
